Teddy tumbled.
Doing acrobatic rolls across the ruby red carpet that spread out like a bloody sea.
Lapping on a lonely shore.
That were the four walls of Bela's imaginary bedroom.
A fertile island where the inquisitive six year old played and discovered dragonflies, daffodils and pirated dreams.
Her governess, Miss Dresden, sat rocking in her chair.
Reading from her personal storybook, a musty A5 leather bound diary, from which the story of Liesel leaked in a trickle of inky grey words.
What really lay beneath the tortured surface of the dark lake?
Why did the sleeping children of that happy village wander?
Drawn, lemming like, singing and giggling.
Into the deep dark waters that strangled them.
Murdered by wicked weeds fed on misery.
The drowning.
A fairytale riddle that perplexed young Bela.
A conundrum that kept her awake on stormy nights.
Mysterious.
Like the strange words spoken by her drunk father.
Drinking cognac.
On stormy nights.
Whispering into Bela's tiny ear.
"I love you, Zana."
YOU ARE READING
Zana
RomanceA dark, modern fairytale with a touch of burlesque, magic and mischief.
